


Night

by Orchyd Constyne (slarmstrong)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3335246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slarmstrong/pseuds/Orchyd%20Constyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And the world changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night

He stood beside Manwë as the Lord of the Valar looked out into the coming Darkness. It swept Aman like a plague, a living thing woven from Light and malice. He had known.

Námo had always known.

Silence was his burden and now Night had come. Deep within him, Námo seethed.

Without a single outward tell, the Lord of Mandos _hated_. He despised himself for his lack of choice, and he despised Melkor for doing as fate had dictated he would.

For a brief, frightening moment, he even felt unbridled fury at his Creator.

This was, after all, _Eru's_ fault!

Manwë's voice, soft and sad, broke him of his loathsome thoughts.

"He has avenged himself fully."

Námo remained still and quiet. Melkor's true vengeance would span an Age, not just this night. This night was nothing compared to the tears the Valar would shed, and the blood the Elves would spill. But it was this night when Aman lost its most treasured possessions. It was this night that all that was good and wholesome in the realm of the Valar died a pitiful, painful death.

This night, when nightfall came to devour the hearts of the Elves, was when all would begin.

"We must go to the Ring of Doom," Námo said in a firm, unflinching tone. "We must decide what will be done."

The winds of Manwë were called to drive back the stench of decay and permit Varda's stars to shine in the perpetual night, and the two Valar left the high perch of Taniquentil and descended to the Ring.

As they walked, Námo kept his head high, his lips shut.

Nightfall had come to Aman.


End file.
